Marble Hornets from the Slenderman Mythos. Operator/Masky. The Operator decides He has had enough of Masky meddling with His designs. The mortal must be taught a lesson he won't soon forget. Rated TR for Tentacle Raep. :o

Disclaimer: Marble Hornets and everything relating to that series belongs to Troy, Joseph, and Tim. Slenderman is up for grabs, if you...really want to try owning him,

Warning: I'm pretty sure this is NC-17. SO BE WARNED. KIDDIES SHOULD NOT BE HERE! It's got TENTACLE RAEP!

Pairing: Operator/Masky

A/N: This story will be under the assumption that Masky is not Slenderman's servant but is still tied into everything and susceptible to Slendy's influence. Alex is pretty much Slenderman's servant and Masky is trying to protect Jay from Alex and Slenderman or guide Jay to the answers he wants.

He never tired of His game of cat and mouse with the humans. They had proven themselves perfect for it, like toys begging for his attention. Over time, His hunger would grow until it could no longer be ignored. In between the times when He needed to satisfy this hunger, however, there was still plenty of time for entertainment, a "dinner and a show," or so the humans called it.

This particular group of humans were proving themselves to be the most amusing bunch He had ever dealt with. The nuances of their relationships, the hurt, the betrayal, there was nothing He could have asked for to make it better. The one named Alex had fallen first after a night of research upon hearing His name (at least, the ones the humans used to refer to Him). Before dawn broke, He was close by, watching Alex, answering the wordless summon.

Jay, the human who thought of himself as Alex's 'friend' had followed, desperately wanting answers as to why this being, this "Operator," had interrupted the quiet peace of his life. There were others, of course, other players in this game to play with, but Jay was by far the most persistent. And along with him, there was his protector, the Masked One, whose gall in opposing Him was unspoken of by most mortal standards.

At first, the Masked One had been a minor annoyance, but after the night when he and the Hooded One had attacked Alex, He decided he could no longer ignore his interference. Left alone, he would grow to be more than a nuisance. The Masked One would have to be "taught a lesson" as the humans said. He would have to be reminded of his place in their game of pursuit.

Finding the Masked One was no difficult task. With centuries of experience hunting and searching, He honed in on the Masked One's dwelling. During the day, He lurked in the shadows between realities, following the man known as Tim. Tim was not his target. He was the human side to the Masked One, the ruse held up during the day. Alone, Tim held no interest for Him; he laughed, he worked, and at times threw concerned glances over his shoulder for his own petty sense of security. No, It was not Tim He was waiting for.

That night, He watched as Tim dressed in the dark pants and orange jacket of the Masked One, but when it came time to don the pale, almost effeminate mask, he hesitated, unsure. But when the mask was on, all uncertainty fell away and he exuded a confidence and grace that was unheard of for a human. He watched, fascinated as this alternate persona took over. Finally, His quarry had made its appearance.

The Masked One left through the back door of the house; the front door was for Tim. Making his way down the steps and to the driveway with a smooth grace so unlike Tim's bumbling gait, he paused only when he saw a movement in his peripheral. Small, yes, but enough to make him freeze and stare.

Underneath the willow in the yard, He was crouched down, hiding the true size and shape of his form. Let the Masked One think he was Alex or Jay, come to investigate. He drew the oppressive influence of his presence out of the air. It wouldn't do to frighten the Masked One and have him flee. Slowly, the Masked One started forward towards the source of the movement, always careful to assess for a familiar shape in the darkness. When he was a few meters away, the man paused again, no doubt to allow his eyes to adjust to the gloom. Despite having all the time in the world, He was struck with impatience at the hesitation.

When the Masked One was finally close enough that the sheen on the mask could be seen, He straightened up, towering over the Masked One, his featureless, pale face surrounded by the boughs of the willow.

Ah, yes, there was the fear. The briefest moment when alarm shot through the Masked One's mind like a bolt of lightning. Not even this mortal was immune to it (from time to time, even Alex succumbed to it when He was nearby). The Masked One made to turn and flee like a startled hare, but he was no match for the swiftness of a much more agile predator.

Two impossibly long, black tendrils shot out and wrapped themselves around the Masked One's waist, tightening as the man tried to scramble away. Hands batted at the tendrils, until two more appeared and coiled around the slender wrists. Desperately, the Masked One tried to dig his heels into the soft earth, determined not to be pulled back, until his ankles were captured and held as well. The Masked One was lifted into the air a few feet, still struggling against his captor with the ferocity of a wild animal.

With his quarry now held in front of him like a rag doll, He came forward, slowly, savoring the sweet fear woven through the air. He allowed his presence to saturate the dark space that was shrinking between them. The Masked One's heart hammered inside of his chest, the beat growing in tempo and intensity until it was a wonder it didn't burst from his chest. The mortal hadn't been expecting this, to be faced with an eldritch horror in this manner for the first time in his young life. He could hear the Masked One's breathing, too hard and too often. If this continued, he would pass out. That would not do. The man should stay awake for this.

He prodded at the thin veil that surrounded the Masked One's mind with his own until it parted. With full reign over the mortal mind, He forced the Masked One to relax. The limbs went limp in the grip of the black tentacles surrounding him, trembling slightly from the adrenaline brought on by a fight-or-flight response. By now, He was only a few inches away from the human held within his grasp. He reached up a long hand and took the Masked One's chin, lifting it up with something akin to tenderness. Behind the mask, the human's eyes were glossy and unfocused, but still intently watching him. In a last ditch attempt, the Masked One attempted to shove the greater force out of his mind, but to no avail. Resilient even in captivity. How admirable.

His hands wandered through the Masked One's clothes at their leisure, as though experimenting with the textures. The masked face was cool and smooth, so unlike the roughness of the jacket. But the thing that truly gave Him pause was the Masked One's hair, which held a texture that could only belong to a human. Beneath his hair, the slender fingers wandered down to the warm, soft throat with a pulse that was increasing in speed. Amiable flesh was what lay underneath the Masked One's garments, and suddenly He felt the undeniably curiosity to see this human's fragile body for what it really was.

He couldn't be bothered with the clasps and the zippers that held the human's clothes together. So, He did the next best thing and tore them off. The fabric was like tissue paper in His hands and black tendrils. He heard a muffled gasp of surprise that amused Him to no end as the cold wind met with warm skin (a cold wind that was only partially because of the late fall season). His hands set about exploring the newly exposed flesh even more slowly than before, mapping out the young man's arms and chest, feeling the muscles tense and relax underneath His hands, sinewy and pulled tight with fear. The skin that had been covered by the jacket and pants was a lighter shade than his arms and face (from what He had seen of the face earlier in the day).

The Masked One's eyes never left His face and within them, He could see a strange mix of emotions: fear, shock, dread, caution, anger, and…something else that could only be attributed to the gentle ministrations over his body.

What did the humans call it? Ah…arousal. One of the most primitive human emotions. Since His body only outwardly resembled that of a human's, He could not feel such an emotion, but He could still sense the arousal through the Masked One's mind and body and it brought such a feeling of curiosity and a craving for more delicious contact with this human that it was the closest thing to arousal that He would ever feel. The desire to experiment with the human replaced the desire to devour and rend.

The tentacles tightened their hold on the Masked One's body to discourage any thought of struggle. The Masked One's black eyes widened and a chocked moan was heard as one long hand closed around his flagging prick. The muscles all around the Masked One's body tensed like rubber pulled taut. Again, He reached into the human's mind, shifting the focus away from the shock and to the sensations that must have been shooting up through his body. The Masked One gave into the influence and shuddered. His prick hardened and lifted further into His hand. The human gave another groan, this time more like a sigh, a throaty sound.

In ages past, He had run across people giving each other pleasures like this. It was another frivolous activity they indulged in that He would never quite understand. But seeing how the Masked One became like clay in His hands with this attention, He concluded that He would have to try this more with His prey. The control it afforded Him was too tempting to pass up. His other hand continued to caress and stroke the exposed skin of the Masked One's abdomen. He wondered if the human should be relieved that the fences surrounding the yard were so high, that no one else could see this display. It didn't matter to Him, though.

Now, how had he seen the other humans engage in these activities? There was usually a female involved, not always, and at other times, both participants were female, but remembering those cases would not help him here. If the receiver was a man, then there was apparently a great amount of pleasure to be had in between his legs and within his body.

The tendrils holding the Masked One's legs parted and spread them apart, but at the moment, it seemed like the young man was too involved with the sensations currently assaulting him to notice. It was when he felt another tentacle coil up and around his leg, approaching his inner thighs, when there was cause for concern, especially when said black tentacle was prodding at the soft skin between the crease in his backside. The entire body seemed to jump within His grasp and the mixture of emotions in the Masked One's mind were immediately replaced with revulsion and horror.

The tentacle reached further inward, testing the entrance to the man's body before pushing its way inside, regardless of the Masked One's tightening inner muscles, trying to bar the way. The cock in His hand wavered and wilted with the intrusion, but He just held it more firmly and gave it a twist, determined to bring it back to life. He almost had the Masked One's will under his control. This would not end now.

The man's inner body was very warm, almost hot. He shuddered around the tentacle that was delving more deeply, pushing against the walls of the interior, seeking whatever it was that seemed to bring a man such great pleasure. The Masked One trembled, and although the white mask was still staring at Him with a neutral expression, the heat radiating from the body gave away the humiliation, pain, and what remained of his arousal.

After a few moments, He was about to switch tactics and withdraw from the man's body, but then His captive shook and gave another startled groan. Yes, that was it. He had found the spot. Barely containing His smug victory, he rotated the tentacle inside the Masked One, hitting the spot again and again until the human was trembling with a feeling that was very different from fear. His cock was now engorged and larger than ever, a small bead of moisture at its tips which was picked up and spread around the rest of his erection.

With His free hand, He rubbed the back of the Masked One's neck, willing him to relax further. The black eyes were glazed over again as the human let his head fall back into the palm of His hand. A sob left the throat, perhaps one of defeat, perhaps of pleasure. The hips bucked and the body trembled as his gland was rubbed and abused by the unearthly appendage inside him.

Curiosity once again won over the predator. If these touches could make the Masked One's body so pliable, what could the body now take that would not break it? Before the young man could recover, a second tentacle was winding its way up the other leg and sliding into the man's backside right alongside the first. There was a yelp as the entrance was stretched to accommodate and the eyes behind the mask grew impossibly large. The second tentacle joined the first in first probing and then twisting inside of him, both aiming for the pleasurable spot.

Just as He began to contemplate adding a third tentacle (said tentacle was already working its way down the man's back towards where the other two were intruding), the Masked One gave a great heave of air and a loud groan. The body bucked and tensed and shook as the man's seed spilled over the long hand around him. The pearly drops seemed to dissolve, however, before any of it hit His black suit.

The convulsions seemed to last an eternity before the body went limp again, this time unforced, as it slowly cooled. The tentacles withdrew, making the man shiver one last time when they came free. His head was still cradled in his captor's hand, with little strength to support itself, but when the eyes opened, they were trained on the featureless face above them, once again out of uneasiness. His chest heaved with the struggle to get enough air.

So this was a human at its most vulnerable, its most defenseless. He would remember this for the future. No more was needed to be done on this night. It was safe to say that the Masked One had been humbled, this much was painfully obvious. Even if He had no more dealings with the Masked One beyond this night, the man would certainly never forget this, with or without memory modifications. How this would affect their chase, their game, not even He could tell at the moment. But whatever it was would certainly be to His advantage.

There was no need to torment the human further, so He gently lowered the Masked One to the ground, laying the man on his back before the tendrils relinquished their hold and receded back into His form. The young man immediately curled up into a ball on his right side, wrapping his arms around his knees and trembling, partly due to the cold breezing over his naked body and partly from shock. Still, the expression on the mask was neutral and indifferent.

The young man was left like this when his tormentor departed, melting into the night the way only a true predator could. He did not leave entirely, only retreated to a corner of the yard where the Masked One would never find Him even if he wished to. He watched the Masked One where he still lay curled in on himself, shivering. He half-expected the young man to give up right there, broken and indignant, but as was the way with humans, he seemed to be stronger than he looked. After a minute or two, the Masked One pushed himself up and, with trembling hands, pulled what remained of his clothes back on. He made his way back inside his home with an obvious limp which gave him some trouble on the stairs. The door closed behind him and the human was probably relieved to be in the one place that would offer him the most comfort.

With His task completed, He faded into the ripples of time and space that would hold him until a wished to appear to mortal eyes again. With so much new knowledge, He went to decide what He would now do with Alex and Jay. Whether or not the Masked One still wanted to be a part of their game after this, his role had not gone unnoticed.

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